Only You
by Halcyon Winter
Summary: Another Amell/Cullen romance. It will carry through to DA2
1. Introduction: Sunrise, Sunset

_Disclaimer: I own none of this, and all credit must go to BioWare for characters and concept. In short, this is for fun._

Not for the first time that day Cullen felt sweat trickle down his spine, and he shifted uncomfortably in his armour. Today he was stationed in the dining room with some of his brothers as the mages and their apprentices came to eat lunch. Naturally, some of the more senior mages took their meals in their rooms, but no one seemed to miss their presence. The great stone walls and arched ceiling echoed with the voices of the students as they spoke while they ate, their Templar guardians ever watchful.

Compassion flooded him as he surveyed the mages. Maker knew the necessity of the Chantry's place when it came to magic - one slip, and the corporeal form of the mage would be sacrificed to the wanton demons of the Fade - but Cullen had always wondered if they were too strict with the mages. Surely they could be given more privilege, more credit. Sometimes... well sometimes he felt like the Chantry was trying to gain control of the mages and the Circle.

As his amber eyes scanned the mages he found one among them that made his heart skip a beat. Even though she did not notice his scrutiny, Cullen dropped his gaze quickly, his cheeks and ears heating significantly in a blush. Against his better judgement he risked a look again and, confident that her attentions laid elsewhere, admired her.

Aleysia Amell was often spoken of with admiration and pride. Courteous and intelligent, she was a selfless woman and humble student; the First Enchanter's star pupil and popular among the apprentices. Cullen's gaze scanned her timidly - she had delicate features and pale, ivry skin. Shapely arched eyebrows and plump lips made for kissing, indisputably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. But it was her eyes that drew you in, a blue-grey that changed as the light caught them; from a sea tempest to the blue of mountain peaks to the grey of storm clouds.

But it was more than this that captivated Cullen. There was a strange aura about her; at once mysterious and graceful; an appalling depth to her eyes, fathomless, and would drown the unwary man. But there was a great sadness there too, just beneath the surface, a haunting sorrow that somehow separated her. In many ways she reminded him of a caged swan, beautiful and majestic, and though she lived in captivity she did not thrive. She would never be truly happy in the tower.

His heart ached as he watched her from his post. He felt torn whenever he thought of it - thought of her - caught between what he knew was right and what his heart yearned for. The inner turmoil since this infatuation kindled waged it's bitter war again - desire and duty, temptations and vows. And the fear of the Chantry ever learning of this obsession ever loomed over him, the consequences for his impurity and dereliction of Chantry law. The shame of being a weaker man.

The Templar turned away, lest her beauty would tear him apart completely.

In his internal war the Templar failed to notice Jowan's gaze and the intensity behind it.

* * *

><p>"Good afternoon, Kelvan." Aleysia said politely as she walked by the Templar. The man scoffed at her and turned away disdainfully, as she had expected. Kelvan was among the Templars that would be better suited to hunt apostates and maleficarum - not to mind the Circle mages. He suspected all mages to be Blood Mages-in-training, or abominations, or... Aleysia let the unpleasant thought go as Jowan came into view, smiling impishly and leading her towards the line-up for food. The smell of freshly baked bread, jams, thick chicken soup and oatmeal made her realize how hungry she was. She had missed breakfast earlier that day, her studies commanding her attentions quite thoroughly.<p>

"Hello Jowan. How have you been today? I didn't see you when I woke this morning." She inquired gently. Aleysia was usually among the mages who woke earlier than others. There was so much commotion in the morning, and she preferred to have her morning routine finished before everyone else was awake. The solitude was highly valued as well, those minutes before dawn broke the night sky were sometimes her favourite.

"I've been quite busy with my... my studies." Her friend said nervously, and Aleysia felt for him. Jowan's Harrowing would be coming soon enough, and he was likely scared. The Harrowing was never talked about in great detail with apprentices. All that Aleysia had been told was that it was very dangerous and not all the apprentices lived through the test. She had observed the preparation before one, however, her curiosity getting the better of her though she learned nothing from the information. All that she was aware of was that it involved lyrium... and templars. Gently she patted Jowan on the back, offering what comfort she could.

They collected their food and started for the tables. "I've met someone." Jowan said abruptly as he lead the way, his chocolate brown eyes glinting when he looked over his shoulder to her. Aleysia smiled genuinely for her friend's good fortunes, but a small pang of envy and sadness stabbed her. Not for Jowan himself - he was like a brother to her and Aleysia suspected the feeling was mutual. No, but that he had found someone at all. It would have to be another mage, as the only other people in the tower were servants and the Chantry sisters, both strictly forbidden.

"Who? Do I know her?" She asked inquisitively, looking around as if the woman would have a painted sign pointing her out. Templars lined the walls of the dining table, and Aleysia was a little surprised to find that she knew all of them by name. She went out of her way to learn the names of those around her, and most were familiar now. Many of the apprentices called out greetings to her, which she returned in kind with a small wave or the flash of a smile. A few faces watching as Jowan and she passed twisted into looks of disgust. Aleysia did her best to not let them affect her, though her stride did falter a few times.

"Probably not. I'll tell you more about her later." He sat down and she took the seat beside him. Aleysia's mother and father had both been Circle mages, and the offspring of such couplings were taking from the parents to be raised by the Chantry, and closely observed. The priests and templars watched her closer than the other orphans, and though they treated her no different outwardly, there was always a certain weariness when they interacted with her. When her magic began to manifest it seemed they had expected as much, and she was brought to the tower. Perhaps it was because she knew the templars who escorted her, or perhaps it was because the Chantry had never felt like a permenant residence, but Aleysia did not harbour the same fear and anxiety many of the children did when they first arrived to the Tower.

Still, entering a community that chafted at the Chantry's involvement - well, some factions, anyways- dressed in the robes of a Chantry orphan caused many to turn on her. The only child to take pity on her and become her friend had been Jowan, with his mop of dark brown hair and twinkling eyes. Since then they had always been close, a deep kinship forming between them. Of late he seemed more distant, but she would be too, with the Harrowing looming over her head.

As her friends spoke around her, Aleysia's eyes were drawn to the Templars and their commanding. She knew some of the mages resented the Templars and the Chantry, but Aleysia saw dedicated men and women, not the murdering visages some mages made them out to be. They had their duties as she had her's, and although some like Kelvan were more haughty and arrogant than others, some of the Templars were compassionate, and saw them more than potential abominations. Templars like... Cullen.

She stole a glance at him quickly, her heart fluttering. He was looking away, which Aleysia was eternally grateful for. He invoked feelings in her that at once excited and confused her. Aleysia turned reflective, unwittingly studying the templar. Although liaisons among the mages were largely overlooked (as long as said relations did not produce children like Aleysia) such acts between mages and any sworn to the Chantry were strictly prohibited. Knowing this, she still found herself inexorably drawn to the stuttering man. Aleysia blushed deeply when she realized where her thoughts had taking her, and quickly joined the conversation her friends were having to avoid anymore.


	2. Chapter 1: Respite

Chapter 1: Respite

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.

Author's note: I apologies for the delay in this chapter. Thank you for the reviews, I really do appreciate them.

* * *

><p>Aleysia poured over the text in the Library, her mid-night hair bound in a loose braid, an unbeknownst ink smudge on her left cheek. She tried to focus on the words in the book<em> Tranquility and the Role of the Fade in Human Culture<em>, by First Enchanter Josephus, but it was hard, what with her body and eyes crying out for sleep. Jowan slept on his open book - _Beyond the Veil: Spirits and Demons_ by Enchanter Mirdromel - and Aleysia had to stifle a yawn as she shot an envious glance at her friend. Jowan had been so exhausted lately, and the stress of his burdens were having an effect on his health; he was tired all the time, he had dark circles under his eyes and was unusually pale. She paused for a moment before blowing out Jowan's candle, letting him sleep for an hour more as she studied. Jowan shifted in his sleep, muttering something.

Although an apprentice never knows when they will be called to complete their apprenticeship and participate in the Harrowing, Enchanter Irving hinted that Aleysia's time would be soon. It was scary, yes -hence why she was in the library in the wee hours of the morning, pouring over the script of an Enchanter who been dead for who knew how long - and yet at the same time it was relieving, a great burden lifted from her shoulders. The Harrowing would undoubtedly be the most trying and dangerous test she ever did in her life, so after it was finished what did she have to fear? Besides, she had been an apprentice long enough, and she was now looking forward to being a fully fledged mage of the Circle.

_"That is if I survive..." _

The thought came unbidden and Alesyia stopped, allowing herself for the first time to acknowledge her fears and doubt. What if she didn't survive it? What if she proved too weak, or slow, or incapable? She wouldn't live - she knew that much of the Harrowing; if you failed, you died. A tremor wracked through, though she couldn't be sure if it was repressed fear or exhaustion. She found herself re-evaluating her life; her induction into the Circle, and how she always accepted the bonds without complaint. And sometimes the Tower was isolating... suffocating, despite that for the better part of her life it had been home. It was easy to forget there was a world out there, especially when she never really had a chance to experience it in the first place. She found herself feeling... angry, at her predicament. At the world. At the people who lived out their entire lives, never actually meeting a mage but fearing and hating them all the same.

And here she was, trapped in this Tower at some ungodly hour, trying in vain to absorb every word she read on the off chance that it would help her survive the Harrowing?

She would die to prove that she wasn't a threat?

The apprentice leaned back in her chair, fingering a corner page of the large book that laid open. _"Mages are housed separately from the public as much to protect the people from us as us from the people." _She sighed, knowing as every apprentice comes to learn that riling against their circumstances doesn't change it, and if nothing else voicing your complaints gets you a firm slap on the wrist. Besides, there were worse Circles than the Ferelden Circle.

She tried to read the text but her eyes slid over the words without realizing what they said. Instead she couldn't escape the feeling of impending doom, and her up and coming test that would ultimately prove if she were worthy. For how long she stayed like this she could not say, locked in terror, but a hesitate voice broke her out of her trance.

"A-Alesyia?"

She jumped out of her chair and wiped around -banging her hip in the process- to find Cullen looking at her, a concern expression on his handsome face. Alesyia blushed, instantly embarrassed to be caught in such a stasis. And now her hip would have a nice bruise decorating it. Cullen, as always, looked immaculate. His eyes looked tired, but otherwise he seemed well. The candle light glinted dully off his armour, reflected back into his face to give a strange glow. She vaguely wondered what kind of mess she must look like and inwardly groaned. "_Of course, nothing could ever come of you two," _a little voice taunted her. _"So why even bother to worry? You'll always be a threat to him. Always a liability."_

"Oh, Cullen, I.. I didn't see you there." She said, and gave him a more confident smile than she felt. He stood several feet away; tall, broad shoulders, curly red-blonde hair that was cut close, a clean, trimmed beard. She liked the way he looked in his armour. _"Would you like the way he looked when he slaughtered you? When he looks upon you with disgust, when you harbor a demon? That is his duty, that is their purpose." _That thought felt detached somehow, and a wave of dizziness hit her. Alesyia swayed slightly and caught herself on the back of the chair. Cullen stepped forward as if it catch her, but once it was clear she was fine he came no closer.

"A-are you al-al-alright?" He stammered out, worried. She smiled, though she felt the quiver in her lips. Was she alright? _"Yes, I'm well, thank you." _She wanted to say, but found that she could not t find the voice to say that. She looked at the Templar and all she could manage was a slight shrug.

"Maybe you should get some rest..."

"I... can't. Soon, I will face the Harrowing. I... I thought I could cope with the pressure, but I find..." She trailed off and turned her head, her eyes staring at nothing again, seeing something else completely. "I guess when you find yourself facing death and with too much time to think, you start thinking about how different your life could have been. About all the things you missed out on." She looked at Cullen and then away again quickly, a slight pink staining her cheeks. _"Oh Maker, that was smooth. Maybe he didn't pick up on that. Please, please." _

If he realized what she had indicated he gave no sign. "You'll do f-fine. You have a lot of potential, and you're clever and quick. Uh, um, I-Irving says so al-all the t-t-time."

"Thanks," she said with a small, sad smile. "But it doesn't take away the..." Trailed off, again. She couldn't find the words. Not to describe the complex emotions, the haunting thoughts that plagued her. There were no words.

* * *

><p>Cullen watched her expression changed, and knew it for what it was - regret. An apprentice who looked the Harrowing full on and realized... well, whatever they realized, they felt regret. Remorse. Wherever their thoughts took them, it was the expression he had seen on many apprentices who stood in the chamber, before Irving even told them what the Harrowing was. It hurt him deeper than he'd liked to admit seeing that expression on Alesyia's face. He wondered what she regretted, what she thought about. Her blue-grey eyes stared unseeing, looking into a realm only she could see. She seemed so vulnerable right now, so fragile - as if a strong breeze would take her away. So small, in the face of-<p>

_"Stop it. You can't protect her, so stop trying to. You're duty is to watch and protect, and if necessary, you may need to kill her." _That thought somber him immediately. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling wretched.

"I'll...leave you to your thoughts, Alesyia." He said. He _wanted _to hold her. He _wanted _to tell her everything would be well. He _wanted _to feel her in his arms, for her to share with him her deepest fears. He wanted to comfort her, and love her.

Instead he turned around and started to walk away. _"Duty before desire." _

"Cullen."

The Templar stopped and looked back. Alesyia was looking at him, the candle-light catching her beauitful eyes, revealing the emotions that warred with themselves in the blue-grey mists. His breath caught, and he resisted the urge to confess everything to her, to hold her and never, ever let anything hurt her. This infatuation was becoming too much, too hard to bare. Fear of being discovered, and fear of being alone. It was like he was dying of thirst, but he got just enough water to survive off of. He lived, but he found himself wanting more - wanting all of it.

"Thank you." She said, and turned back to the book.

With that Cullen left the Library.


End file.
